Don't Cross the River
by Lothiriel84
Summary: There was a reason why Wayne never asked her to babysit his kid. However, this time around he didn't have much choice. - Written for Miss Peg. Title borrowed from the namesake song by America.


**Don't Cross the River**

There was a reason why Wayne never asked her to babysit his kid; she was one of the motives for Sarah to split up with him in the first place, and he was a bit ashamed about the fact of getting a woman pregnant while he was still in love with his former girlfriend.

However, this time around he didn't have much choice. Sarah was out of town when he got called to testify in LA, and Ben's nanny was down with the flu.

As for their other colleagues, Lisbon had taken a couple of days off to visit her brother and niece, Cho's back was giving him trouble again, and Jane was so wrapped up in the Red John case that he wouldn't leave the attic even if his life depended on it.

Therefore Grace was currently sitting in Wayne's apartment, struggling to feed a recalcitrant toddler. She couldn't blame little Benjamin for it; it was hard enough for him to be constantly handed over from one of his parents to the other, and she was little more than a stranger to him anyway.

"Let's make a deal," she murmured as a sudden inspiration crossed her mind. "You eat your supper, then you get to choose what game to play for the rest of the evening."

The toddler clapped his hands and gulped down a spoonful of food. When the bowl was finally empty he jumped out of his high chair and trotted towards the bathroom, clearly expecting her to follow.

Grace raised a questioning eyebrow when Ben gestured for her to turn the faucet on and fill the tub; however, a promise was a promise, and she merely did as asked. She could always clean up the mess later on, when the kid would be finally tucked in bed.

Ben splashed a remarkable amount of water around, before he turned back babbling something she couldn't quite understand. The toddler was getting more and more frustrated with every passing moment, and she felt totally helpless because of her inability to get his meaning.

Frantically she started searching her mind, until she saw a small light at the end of the tunnel.

"A boat? Is that what you want, honey?"

"Bo! Bo!" he squealed in utter relief, and flashed a beatific grin in her general direction.

"Alright, we'll get you a boat then."

She wandered off to Benjamin's room with the kid in tow, but simply couldn't find any toy that resembled a boat. In the end she went for the notepad she found in the living room, tore off a dozen of sheets before sitting down on the carpet and starting to fold them.

Ben was staring at her with his big blue eyes, his little finger pointing at the sheets of paper in front of her.

"I'm building you a boat," she said in reply to his unasked question. "Lots of boats, as a matter of fact."

His curious eyes never left her hands as she deftly made the last fold and pulled the paper boat open. Benjamin grabbed it almost instantly, crushing it a little between his chubby hands.

They watched their little fleet float across the tub for the rest of the evening, until the toddler was so sleepy he could barely stand on his feet. Grace got him ready for bed then, singing snatches of the old lullabies that were her favorite ones when she was a kid.

"You are a sailboat, upon the ocean. You are a sailboat, and I will steer you…"

The rest she just couldn't remember, but it didn't take long for Ben's soft breathing to make itself heard. Without thinking she leaned forward and placed a small kiss on his brow, a warm smile tugging at her lips.

She had no idea whether Wayne would ever consider the idea of picking up the pieces of their previous relationship, and truth be told she didn't know whether she would either. That did nothing to stop her growing affection for this kid, and she hoped she would have at least a small part in his life – as a friend of his father's if nothing else.

When the bathroom floor was mopped and everything else was in order, she curled up on the couch and closed her eyes. Perhaps it was safer that each of them went on with their lives without digging out the past; life was complicated enough as it was now, no need to try and cross the ocean on a fragile paper boat.

That night she dreamt of seagulls hovering in the sky, and the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shoreline. In the morning she woke up more rested than she'd been in quite a long time.


End file.
